The Voyeur
by PurpleMarksALot
Summary: Someone's spying on Stephanie, but does he have the guts to finally tell her exactly how he feels? A oneshot.


_**Standard Disclaimer: Not my characters, and it's all for fun.  
**_

**The Voyeur**

God, he couldn't believe he was doing this. How he'd let himself talked into this, he had no idea. Probably it was all that liquid courage that he had at the bar with his buddies that had him thinking that this would work. It definitely had him believing that they were right. Just get it out in the open. It would be cathartic. Now, sitting in her parking lot, looking up at her living room window, it seemed like a terrible idea. Really terrible. Worst idea of his life. But, his pride wouldn't let him leave. No way was he losing this bet. When he sobered up enough to drive, he puttered over to Stephanie's apartment complex.

He heaved a deep breath, opened his driver's door and stepped out. The night air was soft, warm for this time of year. He could see that Stephanie's windows were open, the light breeze tossing the curtains a little. A light shone through the thick gauziness of the curtains covering the living room windows. Music occasionally streamed out. All the seniors in her building were sacked out by now. Hers was the only window with any light. She passed by the window once or twice. He wondered what she was wearing., then he didn't have to wonder any more. He could see that she was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of Scooby-Doo boxer shorts. He chuckled to himself. It was that little bit of goofiness, that child-like sense about her sometimes that he loved so much besides her spunk and stubbornness.

He was hidden enough that he knew Stephanie couldn't see him. He wondered just want was going on up there in her apartment at this time of night. Normally she was asleep by now. But here she was, traipsing around her apartment, acting like a teenager. It kind of turned him on. He listened as the music went up a notch. Oh, he definitely knew this song. "Dyer Maker" by Led Zepplin. And his eyes couldn't be deceived, Stephanie was dancing. By herself. In her little t-shirt and boxers. God almighty. She danced like a white girl, but damn, it was sexy. The way those hips of hers moved. If she only knew what it did to a man to see those hips move like that. He wanted to sprint up the stairs to her apartment, slip in her door, and take her in his arms and dance with her. Show her how to really dance, not leave an inch of space between their bodies.

Oh, god, the song had changed. Now it was "Miss You" by the Rolling Stones. She did the same dance to this one. If it hadn't been so sick and perverted, he almost wished he had a video camera to capture this on disc. Then he saw the glow of a green bottle in her hands. That explained it. She was drinking wine. He bet she had a nice buzz going, otherwise she wouldn't be dancing in front of her curtains like that. She took a drink from the bottle. If she was drinking, and dancing around in her pyjamas, she must have had a good day. If it had been a bad day, she'd be shoving Tasty Kakes in her face right now, he'd bet. Well, at least he found her in a good mood.

The song changed again. "Beast of Burden" by the Rolling Stones. And she was really getting into the dancing thing now. Swinging her hips to the music, even singing with it. God, she was about to drive him insane. He thumped his head on the hood of his vehicle. This was worse than any strip tease in a strip bar. If his pants got any tighter, the zipper might bust. There was only one cure for that problem.

He watched her again, moving around in front of the window. Christ, this was about to kill him. Finally, he'd reach his limit. If he didn't do it now, he'd never do it. He moved forward into the ambient light from the parking lot light just enough that his outline and face could be barely seen. He put his hands to his face to carry his voice.

"Steph! Stephanie!" he whispered loudly.

She froze in front of the window for a couple of moments.

"Stephanie!"

She moved the curtains a fraction of an inch. "Who's there?"

"It's me."

"Who's me? Where are you?"

"Over here, under the street light."

The curtain moved a little more and she stuck her head out. Her eyes went wide when she realized who it was.

"I just had to come and tell you---"

"What the hell? Carl Constanza?! What are you doing here? How long have you been out there? Have you been spying on me?"

"No, no, no, no, no! I had to tell you---"

Before he could finish, a car door slammed somewhere in the parking lot and a figure clad head to toe in black came ambling up to him. Shit. Not only had he been caught by Stephanie, he'd been caught by Ranger, too.

"Babe, what's going on?"

"Crazy Carl here was watching me in my window!" she stage whispered.

A smile tugged at the edges of Ranger's mouth. "That true, Constanza?"

"Uhmm, shit. You know, forget about this. I'm...a little tipsy. I gotta go home. Don't worry about me. I'm sober enough to drive," he said, scampering to his car and leaving.

Ranger and Stephanie watched as he drove away. Stephanie felt a little sorry for having been so rude to Carl, but she knew he'd get over it. Ranger gave her a knowing glance and walked to the front of the building. Two minutes later, Stephanie opened the front door and let him.

"Thanks for coming over. When I realized who it was out there, you know, I just couldn't resist the temptation to get even with him for all the crap he's given me over the years," said Stephanie.

"When you called me, I thought this was some kind of joke you were pulling on me. But you're right, Carl deserved that little show. By the way, Babe," he said, grabbing the front of her shirt and pulling her in close.

"What's that?"

"If you're going to give Carl a show like that from a window, you have to give me the real thing."

Stephanie batted her eyelashes in fake innocence at him. "Why, whatever kind of 'the real thing' do you mean, Ranger?"

This got the wolf grin. No doubt what the "real thing" meant now. Oh boy!


End file.
